That One Night
by fedorasarecool
Summary: One night can shape the course of the rest of your life...


Dennis Carradine slunk through the building as quietly as possible. What had started out as a simple smash and grab job had taken a turn fro the definite worse. Not only had the police gotten involved, but there was something else, too. He hadn't been able to see what was attacking him. Dennis had been focused on the police car behind him, when all the sudden, he heard a loud _thump_ from the roof.

Dennis would have ignored it, but immediately afterwards a scarlet fist had slammed through the car and almost taken off his head. He had screamed, swerving wildly from left to right. He was able to grab his gun and fire several rounds, and was rewarded with a grunt of pain. There was a quieter _thunk_ as whatever it leapt off the car and onto a truck on the adjacent lane. Dennis was able to see flashes of it from the streetlights. Whatever it was, it was a disturbing blue and red coat, and supernatural speed and strength. It leapt away again, and onto an overpass where Dennis lost sight of him. Turning ahead, he was able to see a bright red blur coming from in front of him.

_Crash!_

That was when he crashed into this abandoned ware house. Dennis had decided to try and give his pursuers the slip inside, but now he was seriously regretting the decision. The place was dark, lit only sporadically by the police searchlights, and there were hundreds of distracting noises, any one of which could be the…_thing_. Whatever it was, it wasn't natural. It was like one of those horror comics, where some guys does something wrong and kills some one and karma comes around and…

The old man.

Dennis closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to dispel the picture of the old guy's face as he lay bleeding out. He'd never shot someone before; he didn't even know that gun still worked. And anyway, there were plenty if bystanders, one of them would have called the cops. The old man was probably fine.

_Thump._

Masquerade spun around, holding the gun in a trampling grip. "WHOSE THERE!" he shouted as loud as he could, trying to convince himself he wasn't afraid.

Glancing up, he saw an indistinct shape move across the ceiling, and he fired two rounds at it before realizing it was just a shadow. He ran towards it, hoping to put some distance between him and whatever was casting it. Unfortunately, he wasn't fast enough.

Something grabbed him form behind, and sent him flying into the wall. He slid down, groaning, and it grabbed him again, putting his face through the glass window on the door. The glass cut rivets of blood. He tried to stagger to his hooves, and the whatever-it-was flung him through the door itself. He kept going until he impacted the far wall, the wood boards almost giving way. He looked up, and could almost see what was attacking him. Panicking, he raised the gun.

_Thiwp! _

A dark grey…rope shot out of its hand, pinning Masquerades gun arm to the wall. He waved his other arm frantically. "Don't do this, man! Just give me a chance. Just give me a chance!"

Moving faster than anything alive had a right to, the thing was tight on top of him. "What about my uncle? Did you give him a chance?" It picked up and slammed him through the window. Dennis gasped in pain. Down below, one of the police officers took notice and shone the spotlight up to them. For the first time that night, Dennis could clearly see his attacker.

It wasn't some spirit of vengeance, it was a kid. Not much older that his son. It wasn't some monster painted hellish colors, he was just wearing a bright red gym suit. His face was covered with a scarlet balaclava, and through it Dennis could clearly see his eyes. And suddenly, he realized he knew them.

_That face…_

It was the kid, the one that had let him go earlier. He'd done Dennis a good turn when he didn't have to and now...

_Was that old guy this kid's uncle? _

_Did I kill him?_

Through the mask, Dennis could see the kid making the connections. "You…" He breathed.

Dennis nodded. "As it turns out." He tried to think of something, anything to say. "That guy…he was your uncle."

The kid nodded tersely.

Masquerade had to be sure. "…He's dead."  
>The kid lifted him off the floor and fully over the ground far below. "Of <em>course<em> he's dead!" He snapped. "You shot him."

Masquerade nodded. "I did." He glanced down at the street below. "…Ya gonna kill me?"  
>"Why shouldn't I?" The kid demanded. "You took the life the man who raised me. I let you go and you KILLED! HIM!" His voice broke. The kid's next question was so quiet, he almost missed it. "Why?"<p>

Masquerade wasn't sure it the question was addressed to him. The kid emphasized it by squeezing his throat a little more. His voice had taken on a deadly calm. "Why. Why did you kill him?"

"I didn't plan to." Masquerade chocked out. He glanced back down at the street. He was feeling oddly calm, himself. Maybe he had just decided there was nothing he could do. "I want even sure if the gun worked anymore, it's just to scare ponies. I never planned to hurt anyone…"

"But. You. Did.

He nodded. "I did. And there's nothing I can do to fix that." He closed his eyes. "Just make it fast, alright?" He hung there for what seemed like an eternity.

"…No."  
>Dennis looked back at him. The kid's eyes were closed. "Eh?" He asked.<p>

The kid opened his eyes again and looked at him. "I should kill you. I could drop you right here and no one would know any better…But he wouldn't approve. With Great Power, there also comes Great Responsibility."

The kids set him down against the floor, and used the grey stuff to stick his feet to the floor. "Just something to think about." He muttered. Turning around, he left.

Denniswas still thinking about it when the cops came.


End file.
